Soon the food was ready. Seeing Noah sitting alone in the living room, Aunt i’s expression darkened like storm clouds gathering.
"Ah, this boy! How could he be so rude? It’s always those stupid gas he’s playing!"
Her voice carried up the stairs with a mother’s fury.
"He didn’t even bother entertaining you while the food was getting ready!"
Here cos the lecture. Poor Ethan.
"ETHAN! GET DOWN HERE!"
The thunderous call could have woken the dead.
Noah winced sympathetically—he rembered being on the receiving end of similar summons from his deceased mother.
Heavy footsteps thumped down the stairs as Ethan appeared, resignation written across his face like a death sentence.
"You didn’t even—"
"Where’s Uncle Smith?" Noah interrupted smoothly, deflecting Aunt i’s brewing storm.
"Has he not finished work yet?"
Sorry aunty, but I gotta save him from your fury.
Aunt i paused mid-lecture.
"He has. He should be arriving soo—"
The front door swung open with perfect timing.
"Honey, I’m ho!" Uncle Smith’s voice sounded through the house.
He stepped inside, suit jacket draped over his arm like a conquering businessman.
Middle-aged but still trim, Uncle Smith had sohow avoided the desk-job belly that plagued most n his age.
His smile lit up the entire house.
"Noah?" His eyes widened with genuine delight.
"It’s been far too long! How have you been, son?"
The older man crossed the room in three strides, pulling Noah into a bear hug almost crushing him.
"Look at you!"
Smith held Noah at arm’s length, studying him like a proud father.
"You’re looking good. Really good. I heard about your startup it must be treating you well?"
"Haha, sort of. Business picked up recently," Noah replied, sticking to his prepared script.
"Finally seeing so returns."
"That’s what I like to hear!" Smith clapped his shoulder with enthusiasm.
"Persistence pays off. I always knew you had it in you."
Ethan rolled his eyes from the corner, but even he seed to relax slightly with his father’s arrival.
Uncle Smith had that effect, the natural charisma that could defuse any situation.
"Wash up, dear," Aunt i called from the kitchen. "Lunch is being put on the table."
"Yes, ma’am!" Smith winked at Noah conspiratorially.
"Never keep the chef waiting. First rule of married life."
So things never change. Thank god.
The family dynamic shifted as Uncle Smith disappeared to wash his hands. Aunt i’s anger evaporated, replaced by wry smile.
Even Ethan seed less defensive with his father ho.
"Co on, everyone!"
Aunt i erged from the kitchen carrying a steaming platter.
"Food’s ready!"
Noah followed them toward the dining room, chocolate box in hand, ready for whatever combination of interrogation and comfort awaited.
The dining room filled with the comfortable chaos of family alti.
Steam rose from dumplings arranged like small treasures on porcelain plates.
The aroma of garlic and ginger created an atmosphere of pure comfort.
Uncle Smith loosened his tie with relief.
"You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had."
Here cos the office drama. Uncle Smith’s stories are legendary.
"That new director—what’s his na, honey? Richardson?"
He glanced at Aunt i, who nodded while serving rice.
"Complete and utter jackass."
Aunt i swatted his arm playfully.
"Language at the dinner table!"
"Sorry, dear. Complete and utter...anyways..."
Noah bit back a laugh as Smith continued, warming to his subject.
"This morning, Richardson calls an ergency eting. Ergency! Like the building was on fire."
He gestured dramatically with his fork.
"Turns out, he wants to discuss the ’optimal placent of office plants for feng shui energy flow.’"
You’ve got to be kidding.
"Twenty-three people. In a conference room. For two hours. About plants. He believes in those Chinese powers, qi or whatever you call them."
Ethan’s lips twitched despite his apparent determination to remain depressed.
Uncle Smith noticed imdiately, like a codian sensing his audience.
"But wait, it gets better!"
Smith leaned forward conspiratorially.
"Richardson brings in this ’feng shui consultant’—so guy in so cosplay clothing, the ones you find monks in movies wearing, who spent forty minutes explaining why the ficus was ’blocking our prosperity channels.’"
This can’t be real.
"So what did you do?" Noah asked, genuinely curious.
Smith’s grin turned wicked.
"I suggested we fire the ficus and promote the rubber plant. It had better leadership qualities."
The table erupted.
Aunt i snorted into her soup.
Even the sullen Ethan cracked a small smile.
Uncle Smith strikes again.
"You didn’t actually say that," Aunt i gasped between laughs.
"Oh, I absolutely did. In front of the entire team."
Smith’s eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Richardson’s face turned three shades of purple."
The man’s fearless. Or completely insane.
"Dad," Ethan spoke for the first ti since sitting down, "you’re going to get fired."
"Probably," Smith agreed playfully.
"But at least I’ll go down fighting the good fight against stupidity."
The laughter continued as Smith regaled them with more tales of corporate absurdity.
Richardson’s attempts to implent "synergistic mindfulness protocols."
The mandatory ditation sessions in the supply closet.
The team-building exercise involving interpretive dance.
*How does he survive in that environnt?*
But watching Uncle Smith’s storytelling, Noah understood. The man had found the secret to navigating corporate madness. It was by treat it like a cody show rather than taking it seriously.
Maybe there’s a lesson there for . Perhaps I should do that in my shop. I take things to seriously sotis
"Speaking of work," Smith turned his attention to Noah, "how’s your business venture going? i ntioned you had so big developnts."
I knew this question was bound to be asked. Well, I guess it’s ti for my carefully crafted explanation.
Noah nonded, preparing to navigate between truth and believability. "Actually, things have been going really well lately. Found a new market that’s been very... receptive to my services."
"That’s fantastic!" Smith raised his water glass in salute.
The conversation flowed naturally from there—business philosophy, market strategies, the importance of treating custors well.
Uncle Smith dispensed wisdom with the confidence of soone who’d survived decades in corporate trenches.
The comfortable atmosphere shifted as Aunt i’s attention turned to Ethan.
"How are your exams going, sweetheart?"
Ethan’s chopsticks paused mid-air. "They’re fine."
"Just fine?" i pressed, her motherly concern creeping into her voice.
"Your teachers said you’ve been—"
"I said they’re fine." Ethan’s voice sharpened like a blade.
Uncle Smith cleared his throat. "Ethan...i we should—"
"What about that math test you were worried about?"
i continued, oblivious to the growing tension.
"And your English project? The teacher ntioned—"
Creak!
Ethan’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood abruptly.
"Can everyone just stop?"
His voice cracked with barely contained emotion.
"I’m handling it, okay?"
There’s the breaking point.
The room fell silent. Ethan’s hands trembled slightly as he stared at his plate, walls crashing down around whatever he’d been hiding.
"I just... I need so ti."
He bolted from the room. Footsteps thundered up the stairs, followed by the sharp slam of a door.
The kid is drowning in sothing.
Aunt i stared after him, confusion and hurt written across her features.
Uncle Smith reached for her hand with comfort.
Noah set down his chopsticks carefully.
"Uncle Smith, Aunt i... mind if I go talk to him?"
The couple exchanged glances before turning to Noah.
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